


jesus christ that's a pretty face

by aquaexplicit



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cisco Is The Prettiest Boy In The World, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Harry Is Honestly Just Happy To Look At Him, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 06:44:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16550897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquaexplicit/pseuds/aquaexplicit
Summary: "You're so pretty like this."





	jesus christ that's a pretty face

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this tumblr anon: "Not to be totally NSFW on anon. But uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh one time Cisco whimpered please cum on my pretty little face and Harry blacked out for 48 hours."

“You're so pretty like this.”

Harry barely has the energy to pant the words. It's been weeks since time and space and super villains have stilled long enough for he and Cisco to touch, and they've spent the better part of the day slipping out of their clothes and into each other. His tongue is numb from re-memorizing Cisco’s taste, and part of him wants to let his head fall back and sink into the feeling of Cisco’s mouth sinking on him. The ounce of awareness that remains urges him to keep talking. Cisco likes it when he talks.

He doesn't know that he even has anything else to give Cisco, at this point, but he was too weak to say as much when Cisco collapsed loose limbed and perfect on the floor, nuzzling between his legs, pulling at the belt he reassembled only an hour ago.

A deep. pleased groan vibrates from Cisco's throat, spilling over Harry's skin, needling hotly beneath it. Harry burns a little as he repeats the praise. His mouth is still clumsy, tumbling out everything he wants from Cisco, everything Cisco wants from him. But Cisco does want it, and Harry's spent too long denying him to give into the self-conscious little teeth that bite below his surface.

“Prettiest face.” Harry moans, lust drunk. His fingers slip over the spit slick mess of Cisco's cheeks. Cisco swallows the praise like he swallows Harry's cock, open wide and yearning and eager.

Harry cups his face, pets trembling fingers along the marble carved mess of his jaw. Cisco uses his grip on Harry's belt, still threaded around the jeans that have been pushed out of the way, to urge Harry closer. Deeper. Harry does his best to press himself as far into Cisco's want as he can.

The sound of their tired desperation echoes in Cisco's living room. Harry closes his eyes to soak in the rhythm of it, the wet sounds of Cisco sucking him messy and needy, a symphony that clenches Harry's gut and clogs his throat. He tries to give himself over but he misses the sight of Cisco's skin glistening messy and obscene.

When he opens his eyes, Cisco is watching him. Harry's vision almost blacks out, but he makes himself meet Cisco's gaze, darker than anything Harry has lost himself in before. He pets dumbly at Cisco's hair, forehead, cheekbones. All the loveliness he can reach.

With a shaky moan, Cisco eases away. There's a pop that strikes Harry's wild heart beat when Cisco's slack jaw slides off. Harry falls forward into it, palms sliding over Cisco's face, mouth searching for any contact. His body is on auto pilot to press all of its awe into Cisco's own.

“Sore,” Cisco mumbles in apology.

Harry is going to pant that it's unnecessary. That it's okay, it's okay, his own jaw is a cavernous ache that was more than worth it, because he would take pain as reward for licking and biting and sucking Cisco past the point of pleasure tears any day, but Harry isn't expecting Cisco to suck him off past Cisco’s own ache.

Before Harry can slur it, before Harry can say he's not even sure he can finish again, no matter how desperately he wants to watch Cisco's throat bob as he gluts himself on Harry’s come, Cisco drags the impossible softness of his cheek over Harry's dick. Harry startles - his back electric stutters from the couch and his knees tremble and his spine tries to curl out of his body and into Cisco's heat.

Harry's fingers knot in Cisco's hair as Cisco repeats the motion. Again, and again, obscenity soaked skin slip sliding pleasure along Harry's sandpaper nerves. Cisco's movements are languid, the pace and sweetness of a sugar crash. He brushes his mouth over the head of Harry's dick, drags that flat of his tongue underneath, catches all the new wetness against his cheekbone as he nuzzles Harry up and down and up.

“You really think so?” Cisco says, soft and incoherent.

Harry doesn't know what he's asking. But Harry doesn't really know anything, right now, other than Cisco is perfect and his and he is very, very lucky.

Then Cisco slows tortuously. He stares up at Harry, nothing but want. When he speaks, his chin bumps Harry's cock, and Harry's useless brain can barely comprehend his words.

“You think I have the prettiest face?”

Harry nods hard enough to give himself whiplash. “The prettiest,” Harry repeats. “All the time. Especially like this.”

Harry runs his touch over Cisco's cheeks again. Cisco turns to catch Harry's fingertips on his tongue.

“Gorgeous,” Harry praises, and Cisco groans messy into the pleasure of it, happy and hot and ready immediately for more. “You let me make such a mess of you, and it's gorgeous.”

Cisco mouths at his cock again, groaning. In the low light of evening, in the blur of pleasure, Harry can still make out Cisco's hand dropping between his own legs.

“It's good?” Cisco asks, but he knows the answer. He just likes hearing Harry say it.

“It's so good,” Harry says. He's rewarded with another messy swipe of Cisco's tongue. “You're so good, Cisco.”

“And pretty?”

Harry nods, moaning into another brush of Cisco's face over him. Then Cisco says his name, desperately, and Harry realizes he didn't say it out loud. When he tries to find his voice, though, echo what makes Cisco's stomach swoop and sing, Cisco flicks his tongue over Harry's slit and moans.

Eyes rolling, Harry grips Cisco's hair, harder than he means to. He's trying to anchor his mind to his body before he loses it completely, but Cisco makes a sweet, hurting noise at the pressure, spilling his want with whimper.

“Come on it.”

Harry's thoughts freight train into each other. His mouth is slack even as he groans, tries to form enough coherency to say what, to say Cisco's name, to say anything. Cisco stares at him with challenge heat and desire.

“Harry,” he repeats, voice nearly a whine around the movement of his own hand and the drag of Harry's cock along his cheek. His eyes screw shut. “Come on it. On me. Come all over me.”

There's a hint of humiliation, the way Cisco nearly tucks said pretty face in Harry's thigh, and Harry's own body burns with a twist of embarrassment and the deepest of needs. Later, when the buzz of lust has faded, Harry won't be able to think of this without going red.

Now, though, all Harry can do is groan and wrap a hand around himself and give in. Cisco watches him work himself past their shared frenzy, mouth open, eyes heavy lidded and fixed on Harry's pleasure. He keeps biting his lips, licking them, pushing Harry further and further without even touching.

“You - you want it, Cisco?” Harry pants as he gets closer.

Cisco nods. “Yeah, want it. Want you to. Want you to come all over my pretty face.”

Harry does. A groan trembles through him and he strokes himself hard enough to hurt and he comes, cock pressed to Cisco's cheek. He watches in out of body shock as he spills over Cisco's chin. Come mingles with spit and slips down Cisco's cheekbone, jaw. Harry follows a thick rope as it slides all the way down the smooth column of Cisco's throat.

Harry thinks he blacks out. Possibly dies. He vaguely feels his body tumble forward to pin Cisco on his back, lick at the come drunk sloppiness of Cisco's cheeks, feed himself to Cisco's whimper soft mouth with his tongue. He laps the mess over Cisco's parted lips as he replaces Cisco’s touch with his own, working Cisco’s over sensitive cock until Cisco is hissing and fucking into his grip and sliding nails over his shoulders.

Cisco comes saying Harry’s name, and Harry brings his wet hand to add to the mess he’s made of Cisco’s perfect, pretty face. Cisco licks his fingers, sucks them cleaner then dirtier. Harry watches from some haze where he barely remembers to breathe.

When Harry can’t hold himself up through the power of Cisco’s debauchery, he collapses at Cisco’s side. Half on top of him, with enough weight that Cisco complains, but Harry can’t make himself move. Cisco tries to push him, but doesn’t have the energy to do much more than sink his fingertips into Harry’s side.

Cisco gives up after a few panting tries. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, not for the first time today. He grins blurry at Harry and Harry uses his last remaining bits of energy to grin back. Then Cisco tries to push sweat damp hair from his face. His face twists. “Dude. I think you got come in my hair.”

Harry tries to shrug, but it’s too much work. “I’ll wash it out for you,” he amends.

Cisco blinks at him. “Can you even move right now?”

“No. But give me a day. Promise I’ll clean up my mess.”

“You better,” Cisco hums, turning more fully into Harry.

They get their arms around each other in a position that is possibly the least comfortable Harry has ever been in. Harry doesn’t mind. He kisses the slick stick aftermath of Cisco’s cheek, and closes his eyes.


End file.
